Pieces to the Puzzle
by neurolingual
Summary: Cophine AU: When Delphine moves to America, she's not expecting to witness a suicide, especially of a woman whom looks exactly like her.
1. Chapter 1

The first thing she thinks when arriving in America is that the weather is exceptionally colder here. She can feel it still in the airport, even just having looked outside the windows; Delphine knows she has dressed improperly. It was not what she had expected; she remembered to check the weather around the time she would arrive in Minnesota, but it had only said there was a possibility of a light snowfall. _Light snowfall_, she rolls her eyes, _Bullshit, il s'agit d'une tempête de neige_.

Going through customs takes her longer than she would have wished, but once she's out she can feel the excitement start to set in. She's in a new world, full of numerous possibilities, people she has yet to meet, and especially better access to academics to better her education. A new life in America, it was something she only dreamed of doing.

The unmistakable joy she felt after receiving her acceptance letter kept her going until the end of her current semester. She counted down the months, weeks, days, hours and even minutes until she boarded her plane and flew the eight hours to Minnesota-Saint Paul International Airport. It wasn't a dream anymore; it was real this time, and while she was here she made a promise to herself to make it count.

Delphine hummed to herself with her luggage in tow, trying to find the baggage claim to get the rest of her things that she brought along. She didn't bring much, but her parents told her they would ship her other belongings the minute she was settled in. She was grateful for such, considering she had a whole apartment she needed to bring over.

Twenty minutes later she had finally discovered how impatient she really was. Baggage claim was more frustrating than friends had explained it to her. There were so many bags that looked like her own, and she had picked up the wrong one so many times that she was tempted to leave without them. But, eventually she had everything she needed and managed to stagger to the front gates and out into the biting cold.

While waiting for the bus, she overheard a woman on the phone, whom, despite her efforts, tried to be quiet as she mumbled strings of colorful words into her phone. She tried not to stare, but the woman became progressively louder until she was almost shouting next to her, and by that point it had started to worry her. The woman's hands were flailing around and she was pacing, a scowl cemented onto her otherwise impeccable features, dreads swishing to the side with each step. She hung up after a while, but she still seemed visibly upset. Delphine didn't like the angry crease in her brow; it wasn't right.

"I don't mean to be rude," she stepped closer, startling the woman who seemed to have no idea she was even standing outside a bustling airport, asking in a hushed whisper, "is everything alright?"

The woman looked back at her, her expression perplexed but not unfriendly, a few seconds later gracing Delphine with a small quirk of her lips. "Yeah, it's fine, I guess."

"You seemed upset." She was probably overstepping, but the stranger had obviously been distressed.

"Just stupid work things, no big deal," she let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Dick head bosses, you know?"

"Oui," Delphine smiled. "Back at home, my boss was a real ass hat."

This made her laugh, and Delphine couldn't help but join in. It was strange.

"Back home? Where are you from?"

"I'm from France, a town called _Fontainebleau_."

"Aah, okay. I couldn't quite place your accent, but that makes sense now." The woman glanced behind her shoulder for a second then returned her attention back to Delphine. "What brings you to America, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm studying abroad at the University of Minnesota."

"No way!" She gasped. "I go there, too! What are you studying?"

"Immunology, you?"

"Evo-Devo," she must have seen Delphine's confusion, so she quickly shook her head and tapped herself lightly on the forehead. "Uh, Evolutionary Development. Sorry, I forget that some people don't know that. It's what we call it there."

"Je comprends," Delphine responded. She let go of her bag and extended her hand to the smaller girl. "I'm Delphine."

She stared at it for a second, before gripping it in her own, her hold tender but firm as she shook it gently.

"Cosima."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Cosima. Enchanté."

Cosima squeezed her hand.

"Enchanté," she replied with a tilt of her head and a crooked grin. Their hands lingered before Cosima broke it off with an awkward cough not much later.

Delphine picked up her back once more as she saw her bus fast approaching. "Are you riding the bus as well?"

"Me? Oh, no, I'm having a friend pick me up." She frowned slightly. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"I hope so."

The bus pulled to a stop in front of them, and with a small wave she bid Cosima a farewell and hopped inside, her luggage occupying the seats next to her. She saw Cosima watching her leave from the window, a small blush creeping up to Delphine's cheeks. _Strange girl_, she thinks.

An hour later, the bus drops her off a block from her new apartment building, and she struggles to walk with everything in her arms. Lucky for her, a man is on his way out as she goes in and holds the door for her. She thanks him and continues to the elevator.

"_It's loft 37C_," she remembers her mother saying, fishing around for the key in her pocket. Once she has it in her hand she exits the elevator and continues down the hallway, checking around for _37C_ next to each door. It's at the very end, and when she finally spots it she lets out a small squeal of delight and rushes forward, biting down on her lip to keep herself from smiling too wide.

The key fumbles in the lock before she can properly open it. She hears the click as she turns the handle, pushing the door open and dragging the rest of her bags into the darkened space. She feels around on the adjacent wall for the switch and flicks on the light, taking in her surroundings.

Right as she opens the door, Delphine is face-to-face with what seems to be her living room, with floor to ceiling windows on the far end and a kitchen tucked neatly off to the side, along with a spiral staircase up against the adjacent wall. It's seemingly empty; the only things visible are the marble island kitchen countertops with matching barstools. She saunters back to the door for her bags and hauls them up the stairs, stopping outside one of the two doors on the upper story. It's half open, so she nudges it the rest of the way with her left foot, stepping inside what appears to be her bedroom, equipped with a bed frame and mattress. The bedroom floor color is much like the one downstairs, a dark, heady brown hardwood, but the walls are painted a dull grey. There's a small shelf hanging on the wall adjacent to her bed, presenting a wonderful space for Delphine to place her numerous snow globes she brought over from France. Just next to the shelf is a small closet, an impeccable size for Delphine's humble wardrobe.

Connected to her room is a medium sized bathroom, with a door leading back out to the hallway, its vibrancy matching the rooms previous to it.

"This place could use some color," she mumbles aloud, trailing her fingers along the cold tile sink. Up to more exploring, she finds a coat closet inside a small laundry room beside her staircase, hidden behind slotted wooden doors. She placates going through her kitchen cabinets, only to discover them bare, a thin layer of dust covering the bottom. "Merde, it needs to be cleaned, too."

Checking her watch, Delphine realizes it's only about six forty five in the evening, but it feels like she has been awake for hours. Chalking it up to the jet lag, she decides to head upstairs to try and get a few hours of sleep in before unpacking the rest of her things.

Instead of rummaging through her bag for her pajamas, Delphine settles for stripping down to her underwear, using a pea coat as her blanket for the night. She tucks her knees to her chest and rolls on her side to stare out the window, counting the snowflakes while her eyelids grow heavy, a small pang of joy at being in her new home lulling her to sleep.

* * *

Her neck is stiff when she awakes in the morning, but she doesn't let it bother her as she springs up from bed, notibly peppier than she was the night before. She grabs her phone from off the floor, figuring now to be the best time to ring her mother, considering she promised to call her the minute she landed and seemingly forgot. Delphine stalks down the stairs, searching through her purse for her international calling card she purchased at a gas station the day before. After the initial set up of entering her access code and pin, she seats herself on the marble countertop and dials her mother's phone number, listening to the dial tone for a few minutes before her mother frantically picks up not much later.

"Delphine!" Zoé, her mother, all but shouted into the phone. "I told you to call me the minute you landed. I thought your plane had crashed or something. J'étais inquiet malade!"

"_Maman_," Delphine chuckled, "I arrived later than planned. Je ne voulais pas te réveiller."

"Delphine, I would have stayed up for you," Zoé sighs, but Delphine can hear a slight smile in her tone. "So? Did you make it to the apartment safely?"

"Oui, I managed to get here in one piece."

"Merveilleux! How is it?"

"It is a little dull, no doubt, but it is still beautiful." She stands and treads over to the window, leaning against it and peering outside. "The view is just as stunning. It's snowing quite heavily here, though."

"I thought you said it wasn't supposed to be bad? Oh, Delphine! You did not bring your heavy jacket with you! Vous allez attraper un rhume!" Zoé begins fussing at her in fast-pace French and Delphine can hear her shuffling around for something on the other end. They talk for a little while longer (more like Delphine listens as her mom chastises her from another continent about not packing things she should have), but they both hear Delphine's father shout something incomprehensible to her mother. They say their goodbyes, Zoé promising to ship the rest of Delphine's once the post office opens up tomorrow.

Delphine could only entertain herself for so long, and with her mother busy and having no one else to talk to, she wasn't surprised to find herself bored of looking at the white stone walls of her apartment after five minutes. She shrugged and slipped off the countertop, making her way up the stairs to take a quick shower and change into something comfortable. She emerged several minutes later and headed directly to her purse she had placed vicariously on her mattress. Shuffling through it, Delphine spots one of the directories she managed to find in the airport for a place called _Stillwater_, only twenty minutes away. She checks the window, seeing the weather was exceptionally better than what it had been earlier, and tugs on a leather jacket before heading towards the door, locking it behind her and skipping down the hallway. Taking the stairs instead today, she almost topples over a woman carrying coffee walking next to her.

"Oh, mon dieu!" Delphine exclaims, stopping dead in her tracks, hands bracing against the stranger's shoulders. "I am so, so sorry!"

"It's okay," the woman shrugs her off with a laugh, but Delphine shakes her head.

"No, it is not. I should have watched where I was going. I am terribly sorry." She looks down and notices the many shopping bags she seems to be struggling with, muscles straining under her dark skin. "Do you need help with those?"

"Oh, no, it's alright," her tight ponytail swishing to the side as she looks down. "I think I'll manage."

"Please, let me help," Delphine begs. "It is the least I could do for almost plowing you over, madame."

"Okay, sure, you convinced me," she smiles politely, hazel eyes sparkling as she shifts her coffee to the other hand, offering Delphine a number of bags to take but keeping one. She motions for Delphine to follow her back up the stairs and Delphine complies, moving to walk next to her.

"Are you new?" the girl asks, breaking their silence. "I mean, I haven't seen you around before, and I've lived here for few years. Plus, you sound foreign."

"Oui, I just moved here from France. My name's Delphine. I'd offer you my hand, but," she raises her arms to gesture at the bags, and the girl nods in understanding.

"I'm Imani. I live… right here. _29C_. Where are you?"

"Just down the hall a bit, _37C_."

"Wait, can you hold this for a sec? I gotta get the door unlocked." Imani hands Delphine her coffee and reaches inside her purse, whipping out her keys and unlocking the door. She takes the coffee back and holds the door open. "Would you mind just putting them on the counter?"

"Non, I do not mind at all," Delphine smiles and steps inside, noticing that Imani's loft looks similar to her own, except it was filled with wacky, mismatched furniture, ranging from neon beanie bags to an antique coffee table, complete with abstract paintings littering the walls.

She must have been just staring at her décor for longer than necessary, for she hears a guffaw ensue from behind her that breaks her trance. "Yeah, I know, my furniture is a little odd."

"I think it's nice. At least you have some, though. My place is barren with the exception of my bed, though I don't even have sheets for it yet, or even a blanket. I had to use my jacket as a one last night."

"Interesting," Imani grins appreciatively. Delphine meets her at the counter and sets the bags down.

"Where were you headed before? I mean, after you practically ran me over on the stairs," Imani adds, smirking at the slight pink of Delphine's cheeks.

"Well, um, I was just going out to get coffee in a place called _Stillwater_."

"Really? Oh man, I love that cute little town. It's so homey. Hey, do you mind if I come with you? I just grabbed shitty coffee down at the gas station, and I know this shop there that has the best pike roast you'll ever have. I mean, as long as I'm not imposing?"

"Absolutely! I'd love for you to tag along," Delphine nods. "You could show me around. I do not know where anything is here."

"Sweet! Okay, when we're there, I have to take you to my favorite ice-cream parlor. They have this crazy black licorice ice cream that is _to die for_. Hey, no, don't make that face! I don't care for licorice either, but this stuff is worth it, trust me."

"But it is eight in the morning. Isn't it a bit early for ice cream?" Delphine asks, but is more than amused at the childish look of excitement on Imani's face.

"Dude, you're in America," she simply states, grabbing Delphine's arm and leading out the door. "What good is freedom if you can't use it to get morning ice cream?"

* * *

Imani was right; Delphine's ice cream is surprisingly delicious, along with her large black coffee. It's an unusual combination, but she's enjoying it too much to mind the weird looks she's receiving as they walk down towards the water, Imani close by her side. She learned that Imani was also a student at UMN, going for her doctorate in electrical engineering. She went off on a tangent about it, but Delphine wasn't able to keep interest. (She was ignorant on the subject, but didn't have the heart to tell Imani; she seemed so passionate Delphine didn't want to ruin her moment).

They were sitting down on a bench and Imani leaned back, neck exposed to the bright sunlight, which was quickly melting the snow surrounding them. Delphine does the same, eyes closing and giving her a moment to relax.

"It's lovely out," Delphine murmurs sometime later. With her eyes closed, she doesn't see Imani nod her agreement.

"Yeah, it's way better than that shit we had yesterday. You had to fly in that?"

"Oui, but it didn't get bad until we landed."

"Still, that has to stuck, carrying all that crap with you in like a foot of snow. I would have made someone else do it." Delphine laughed.

"I wish. It was a bit of a hassle."

"I bet." Imani sips on her latte. "It's just so crazy that you moved here. Just, like, up and moved. I don't think I could have done that, honestly. I have too much here to do that."

"Like what, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My dad and step-mom live just a little ways away from me, maybe a little more than a half-hour. Then I have my little brother. He's only eleven. Sometimes he stays with me when my parents are away."

"And what about your mother?" Delphine inquires. "Does she live around here?"

"She used to, but she died five years ago," She answers flatly.

"Oh… I'm so sorry." They make eye contact and Imani smiles sadly at her.

"Everything's okay now. I mean, I still miss her at times, but what can you do, y'know?"

Delphine doesn't answer, just reaches over to comfortingly squeeze her knee.

"But enough sad talk. I wanna hear about how excited you are about coming here. What was it like? Your first impression of America?"

"I'm not really sure," her nose scrunches. "I mean, it is what I expected, but at the same time it is not. People were rude to me already, and one lady completely ran into me at customs, and then yelled at me for not paying attention. Elle était un peu une salope."

Imani laughs loudly. "Bienvenue en Amérique, mon ami."

Delphine perks up. "You speak French?"

"Yeah, a bit. I took it all throughout high school and then a few courses when I first started going to university, but now I just kind of do it for myself. Comment est mon accent?"

Delphine smirks. "It could use a bit of work."

"Grossier!" Imani shoves her playfully.

"No, it is nice. At least someone could try understanding me if I go off on a rant in French. I tend to do that."

"What are you doing tonight?" Imani abruptly changes the subject turning to face Delphine on the bench.

"Probably going furniture shopping. My place is a little bare. Why?"

"I was going to suggest heading to this bar just down the street from our complex," she's pauses, then quickly frowns, "but now I just remembered I have to work tonight anyway. Damn."

"Well, what is the name of the place? I would like to check it out anyway, and we can go for drinks when you get off work."

"I don't get off work till ten thirty, but yeah, I'm sure I could use a drink after my shift. It's called _Artist's Quarter_, it's this neat little jazz bar. I don't know if you're into jazz or not, but it's really cool."

Delphine thinks about it for a few seconds before answering. "I haven't had much exposure to jazz."

"You're going to love it, here give me your arm," she reaches out and grabs Delphine, pushing her sleeve up and pulling a pen out from her purse. "Here's my number. Text me now so I have it, and then I'll message you the details."

Delphine does as she's told, and soon Imani's phone is buzzing in her hand.

"There, I have you saved," she smiles and stands up, reaching out for Delphine's hand and pulls the blonde to her feet. "Now, c'mon. I need to show you this little pond that has just the _cutest_ ducklings you've ever seen!"

* * *

Later that night, Delphine decides to walk to Artist's Quarter instead of taking the bus, figuring the fresh air would do her some good.

_"It's at the big_ Hamm Building, Imani had texted to her. "_It's huge! You'll know it when you see it. It has _Hamm_ written all over it_."

_"I wish you were here, Imani. I do not know anyone!_**_" _**Delphine responded.

"_Missing me already? ;) Go out and mingle! Don't worry, Delphine, I'll meet you there in a few hours! I gotta go, my manager's giving me a nasty side eye. I'll text you when my shift ends!"_

Instead of responding and getting her in more trouble, Delphine decides to pocket her phone and scopes out the area for the _Hamm Building_. She spots it a few blocks down, and her pace increases, a glass of white wine sounding delectable with each step she takes in her heels. _Merde, why did I wear heels? There is still snow on the ground._

When she steps inside, she's instantly falling in love with the place. It gives off a certain relaxing vibe, most of the patrons with their attention on the musicians on center stage, the sound of soothing jazz filling the space around her and bouncing off the corners, the entire room enveloped in the sweet melody. She makes her way to the crowded bar, leaning back the wall next to it with her attention mainly focused on the saxophonist, who's spinning around the lead singer. They smile at each other and it warms Delphine's heart seeing two people enjoy themselves like that.

The bartender finally makes his way over to her, grabbing her attention with the wave of her hand.

"What can I get you this time? The usual?" He asks his voice deep and gruff.

_This time?_ "Um, no, but may I have just a glass of white wine, please?" She tries to ask politely, but her voice cracks through her confusion. _The usual?_ _And why is he looking at me like that?_

"You sound weird," he calls over his shoulder at her, filling up her glass and returning it to her. "You sick or something?"

"No…" she answers hesitantly.

He studies her for a few moments, which unnerves Delphine, but after a few seconds he just shrugs his shoulders.

"Okay, well hey, whatever you were fighting about with Isaac earlier, it's probably nothing. But, I'm glad you seem to be back to your old self again. You look better. That break to the roof did you some good." He leaves without another word and leave Delphine standing there, completely befuddled.

_Isaac?_ She takes a sip of her wine, a deep crease still between her brows. _I do not understand. I wasn't fighting with anyone. Maybe he had mistaken me for someone else?_

She takes a seat at a vacant barstool, trying as much as she can to focus on the next act that walked up to the stage, but there was something nagging her in the back of her mind. Her mind kept drifting back to that encounter she had just minutes before. It wasn't until Delphine had spilled a bit of wine on herself that she realized she had zoned out, only thinking back to that one word. _Roof_.

Curiosity got the better of her and she set her half empty wine glass down on the counter, along with cash that she figured should cover it along with a tip and set out to find the lobby. She managed to maneuver through the crowd until she found it, looking around for an elevator or stairs of some sort. She stopped a man who was walking by her how to get to the roof from here, and once she received the desired information, she slipped inside and elevator and headed for the top floor. _Roof, roof. What the hell is on that damn roof?_

Once she got to the top floor she set out looking for an exit of some sort, finding one labeled _Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only_, the door slightly open with a rock wedged between it and the frame. Delphine looked over her shoulder both ways before nudging the steel door opening. She struggled with it a tad; it was heavier than she expected.

When she finally pushed open far enough to slip inside, she allowed it to slam shut, the small rock breaking in two as the weight crushed it. She walked up the dimly lit staircase to another door, which she managed to open with ease.

The frigid November air bites at her exposed skin and she pulls her jacket closer to her body. She looks all around the roof, but there's… nothing. She can't see anything, aside from a few scare air vents poking up from the surface. Walking forward, she cranes her neck to see if there's really something there or not. _There has to be, _she thinks._ I can feel something here_. _Roof, roof_. _Why does it feel somber all of a sudden?_

Momentarily, she thinks it's a trick of the light or just a figment of her imagination, but as she steps around the rooftop's entrance, she believes to sees a person there, pacing back and forth dangerously close to the raised edge. Her gut twisting uncomfortably at the figures demeanor: its hands are wrung throughout its hair, its chest heaving. Delphine thinks she can hear sobs, stopping her dead in her tracks.

She wants to move closer, watching the figure, whom appears to be a woman, taking off her jacket and placing it next to her purse on the ground. She wants to move closer, but her feet feel like they're tied down by cement blocks. The woman stops pacing, leaning forward to grip the metal railing just level with her chest, and hangs her head, more cries escaping her. A light passes above from a spotlight from the nightclub behind them, barely highlighting the back of her head bound in long blonde waves that seem to glimmer in the passing flash. It's only momentarily, but Delphine swears she sees something familiar, and it sets her in motion.

"Madame," Delphine calls out, taking a few hesitant steps closer, making sure she doesn't spook the woman, the clenching of her heart telling her this could end badly if she isn't careful. "Madame, is everything alright?"

The woman glances back over her shoulder, but Delphine can't make out her facial features in the dark. She doesn't know what's compelling her, but she moves a bit closer, heels clicking against the concrete top.

"Please, step away from the edge," she pleads calmly. "You are too close."

To Delphine's horror, the woman hoists herself up onto the edge, moving to sit on the railing. Delphine's heart races in her chest.

"No, please, don't!" Delphine lunges forward, stopping just next to the woman's discarded belongings. She's too far away to reach her, and she's afraid if she does get ahold of her, she may accidentally push her. Instead, she just opens her hand and holds it out in front of her. "Take my hand! Step away from the edge. It's going to be okay."

Standing on the side opposite Delphine, still gripping tight to the rusted metal bar beneath her fingertips, the woman maneuvers so the front of her overlooking the rooftop once more. The spotlight shines again, this time in on the woman's face, and the air is ripped from Delphine's lungs.

It's… her.

It's herself.

It's Delphine.

_C'est quoi ce bordel? That's… that's impossible!_

Time seems to have stopped, because even though the spot light has gone, Delphine still sees that face, brilliantly illuminated: cheeks puffy, eyes an angry red, lips trembling. She examines herself in a horrible state of disarray, standing on the edge of a building, violently sobbing on the verge of committing suicide.

Delphine's mouth is hanging open, the only sound between them Delphine's ragged intake of air.

For whatever reason, she takes a step forward.

Mistake. Big mistake. As soon as she does, the woman lifts a foot and pushes her body away from the railing, several different emotions Delphine can't even place running through her mind as she watches her drop from sight.

Delphine will never forget the horrendous sound of a body hitting the pavement.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: i'm really sorry that this is a few days late. i have impeccable timing capabilities and horrible late-night grammar (thank god i have a beta because this chapter probably wouldn't have made any sense without her). here's chapter two! let me know what you think!**

* * *

She doesn't know how long she's been standing there, gaping at the spot where just moments ago, she watched herself fall from sight. She's frozen – paralyzed – with what, she doesn't know. Delphine is feeling so many things at once; she can't give her body the commands to move.

She's suspended in time, a pillar, waiting for the moment when she crumbles to the ground, but it never comes. She's vaguely aware of the puffs of air, leaving her lungs with a tremble, visible in the cold night.

It's only when she hears a cry from below is she brought back to reality.

Her body straightens. A hand clamps over her mouth as she releases a garbled sob of her own. Delphine's eyes sting with tears, her mind suddenly going into overdrive compared to minutes ago, where it had been useless to her.

"Ce… qui la baise…" Delphine whispers, the situation hitting her like a freight train.

"Ce qui la baise," she repeats a little louder this time, hand quivering against her lips.

"_Ce qui la baise! What the fuck?!" _she shouts, hand returning swiftly to cover her mouth, where she lets out another wracking sob. Tears pour down her cheeks and she drops to her knees, head falling to rest on her palms.

"Ce n'est pas réel," she murmurs. "Ce n'est pas réel. This isn't real. It can't be." She stops to take a breath, watching her tears fall to the concrete beneath her. "What is going on?"

The commotion forming from the street below her brings her from her thoughts, her head snapping up to gaze at the edge once more. Screams of terror travel to her ears and she can't help the way she wants to console them, to tell them it's okay. She's alive; there's nothing to worry about.

"But, that wasn't me…" Delphine lifts a hand tentatively to her cheek, and without a second thought, she slaps herself as hard as she can. She teeters, but the burning pain on her skin only serves to confuse her more.

_Doppelganger_, she thinks, _a doppelganger._ _People have those. That had to be mine. It's the only explanation._

The sound of vibrations peel her from her thoughts. Her eyes scan the rooftop once more, hand on her cheek to soothe the burn, when her gaze lands upon the woman's belongings.

Delphine scrambles over on her hands and knees, slipping in her haste, pulling the bag into her lap once she's close enough. The bag vibrates on her thighs, and once again she's tearing up.

_Her family_, Delphine swallows, forcing her lids shut. _They have no idea_.

Shaking her head, she clutches the purse and picks up the jacket lying next to her feet, although she's not sure what possess her to do so. _Scientific curiosity?_

She needs to get out of there, and fast.

Standing up takes her longer than she would have liked, her emotions weighing down on her like an anvil, but she manages to wobbly ascend. The dash to the roof exit is not exactly graceful, but she pushes that to the side and sets her sights on getting the hell out of there.

As luck would have it, when Delphine goes to open the door, it's locked.

"Quoi? Non!" She jiggles the handle, but it doesn't budge. She lets go and kicks against it angrily, regretting the action almost instantly as her toes begin to throb.

_Faire foutre! Fucking heels._

Disregarding the pain in her foot, she searches for another exit, and to her surprise, finds a ladder on the opposite ledge that seems to lead into an alley. Reaching down to yank off her heels, Delphine races to the metal, peering down over the side.

It's desolate, albeit the few alley cats rummaging around the trash. She tosses her heels down the side, watching as they fall with a splash into an isolated puddle. _Merde_.

Hearing sirens approaching, Delphine's heart races as she lifts the leather handles of the woman's purse to her mouth and bites down, freeing her hands to reach for the cold metal. _What am I doing?_

She descends the short distance to a steel platform, following the steps downwards until she appears above another ladder, quickly twisting her body to slide down it.

Her heart seems to beat even faster as her bare feet hit the ground. Delphine stumbles at first, but finds her footing and sets off in search of her heels. She grabs them both in one swoop and she's abruptly overcome with the sensation of asphyxiation. Her hand clutches at her throat, not understanding why it won't take in the air she's greedily sucking down. Delphine's eyes close, and she can't keep the tears at bay this time.

A woman killed herself, in front of her, and she looked _just like her_.

The waves of horror strike Delphine again and again the longer she holds onto the Doppelganger's purse, but she can't find it in herself to just throw it away, to forget about it and walk away.

Once more, vibrations from within the leather bag bring her back to the moment, and she looks down at the zipper as if it were an alien aircraft. She raises her hand to it, but pulls away before she can lay a finger on it.

_C'est seulement un sac à main, Delphine. Only a handbag._

Jerking the zipper open, a bright light momentarily blinds her. Blinking away the spots, she reaches down to grab it.

It's a phone. It's cheap and worn-down. The Nokia phone is adorned with a bright green plastic case and it's vibrating in her palm, the screen reading "incoming call from _A._"

She doesn't answer it. Delphine lets it go to voicemail. Hitting a button to open up her inbox, she sees there's at least a dozen unopened texts, mostly from _G_, and one from an _R_.

"Where are you?" Delphine reads out loud as she clicks to the next one. "I need to talk to you." _Next._ "Can you talk?" _Next._ "You need to pick up."

She reads over the rest before setting the phone back inside. As soon as she sets it down, something else begins to vibrate. _What? _

Shuffling everything around, she finds a wallet along with another cellphone, this one nicer than the previous, with an incoming call from someone named _Isaac_.

Delphine let's that one go to voicemail too, and tosses it back in the bag. She's leaning back against the wall when she sees shadows pass from her left. Holding her breath, she waits until they pass before turning her attention to the wallet clutched in her right hand.

She wastes no time finding the woman's ID, sliding it carefully from its laminated slot inside the bound leather. With the dim glow from the streetlights, Delphine's just barely able to read the faded writing on the card.

"Juliette Velius," she murmurs before looking at the picture. Her breath catches in her throat as she sees the woman's face – _her_ face – staring right back at her. The blonde hair is pulled to one side, but it's still her - it's Delphine, her face on another woman's identification card. Without a second though, she pulls her own wallet from her back pocket and flips it open, holding her ID up to compare to the other.

The pictures are of the same woman, one with short hair and one with long. The same crooked smile, the same brown eyes, the same freckles; it's uncanny.

Swallowing shakily, Delphine closes her own wallet and stashes away the other, deciding that the longer she wastes poised in a dark alley, the more she feels like she's committing a crime. And she is, isn't she? Isn't this considered grave robbing? Or, in her case, body robbing?

She slides her heels back on, and hoists the bag along with the extra jacket over her shoulder, running out to the street to hail a taxi. She makes it to the first lamp post in sight before a loud crack of thunder erupts from above, rain pouring down almost instantaneously. People rush about her, scurrying to find shelter as Delphine stands there, soaking to the bone in clothes that only make her body feel heavier than it already does.

After a few unsuccessful tries, she finally hails down a cab, climbing into the back and rushing out directions so fast she may as well had been speaking French to the man. She repeats herself more slowly, eventually getting the main to comply, and he tries to make idle chit-chat with her as they cruise down the road, but Delphine isn't cooperating, and he gives up after minutes of Delphine remaining unresponsive.

When they pull up to the apartment complex, Delphine shoves a fifty dollar bill into his hands, not waiting for her change as she pushes open her door and bolts towards the buildings entrance. She manages to get inside as someone leaves, too antsy to reach for her own key, receiving a bewildered look from the young man who holds the door open for her. She offers a rushed courtesy when slipping passed him, and heads for the stairs, not finding it possible to wait for the elevator.

Delphine's body continues to move at full capacity up the several flights of stairs, a burn starting to build in muscles. She reaches her floor in what has to be record time and sprints down the hall, rounding the corner and stopping before her door.

Fumbling with the key in her hand, Delphine can't seem to get it into the hole and half-yells in frustration. She pounds her fist against the sturdy wood, leaning against it as her adrenaline begins to wear off. She's exhausted, she can't get into her own house, and she's holding a dead woman's things in her arms.

Taking a deep breath, she manages to groggily pull herself away from her front door and head down the corridor in search of _29C_.

_I hope she's still home_. Delphine knocks feebly against the wooden barrier, hearing a soft "Coming!" from inside, sighing with relief.

The door opens to reveal a half-dressed Imani. The sweatpants she has on contrast with the tight printed top she has on, and her hair is half pulled back and half curled, make-up wiped clean from her face. Imani had a patient smile when she first answered, but she takes one look at Delphine and her expression twists in concern.

"Delphine, I was just coming to meet…" she trails off as she notices Delphine struggling to stand up straight, leaning heavily against the door frame. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"Non, je ne suis pas bien," Delphine pants, wiping the cold rain water from her forehead. "Do you have a place I can rest for a minute?"

"Oui," Imani responds, gauging a small smile from Delphine. The darker woman leads her over to neon colored bean bags in the center of the room, a stark contradiction to the plainness of her walls and antique coffee table. "No offense or anything, but you look like shit."

"I could only imagine," Delphine sighs, plopping down on the orange seat and sinking down into it, much to her delight.

"What happened?"

Delphine's eyes fly open, watching as Imani steps closer to her with a cautious expression.

"If I explain it to you, you'll think I'm crazy."

"What?" Imani walks over to the pink bean bag, dragging it in front of the one Delphine is in and settling down into it. "Delphine, I'm starting to get worried."

"I saw…" her throat is suddenly dry; she licks her lips subconsciously. "I saw a woman kill herself."

She hears Imani take in a sharp breath, and she cranes her neck up to look at her. She appears as if she might be sick, eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted into a grimace.

"That's not even the half of it," Delphine snickers, shaking her head. Imani looks back at her like she had grown another head.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because you'll never believe the next part."

"Try me."

Delphine steals a breath. "The woman who killed herself, she looked… exactly like me. Précisément."

Imani just looks back at her in confusion. "Exactly?" Delphine nods. "What do you mean?"

"Look," Delphine tosses the purse into her lap, and Imani's eyes almost bulge out of her head.

"Is this her purse?"

"Oui."

"Delphine! This is, like, hundreds of different types of wrong! What the hell?!"

"Open the wallet and you'll see why I took it."

Imani looks apprehensive at first, but decides to open it anyway. Shaking the water from her fingers, she reaches inside and pulls the wallet out. She opens it up and pulls the ID out, gasping as the wallet falls from her other hand into the purse.

They're silent for a long stretch of time, Imani staring down at the plastic card while Delphine waits for her to react. Suddenly, she's laughing, and Delphine's perplexed.

"This has to be a joke, right?" Imani laughs, making Delphine frown; why was she laughing at her? Her brows furrow as Imani's laughter continues, confusion slowly turning into irritation. "There's no way, dude."

"_Ce n'est pas une putain de blague!_" Delphine suddenly snaps, words cutting through Imani's laughter like ice, the other girl freezing up instantly. "You think I would joke about this?"

Imani seems at a loss for words. "Well, I just…"

"Why would I joke about a woman killing herself? _Imbécile_!"

"Whoa, hey!" Imani's quick to defend herself. "Don't call me that!" Her eyes burn with anger, making Delphine regret what flew out her mouth without care. "How am I supposed to react to this, other than thinking it's a fucking joke?! Do you see this picture?"

"Oui."

"It's you!"

"Oui!"

"It's fucking _you_, Delphine, on another woman's ID with another name and another address!"

"Oui! I told you, you wouldn't believe you!"

"I do believe you!" Imani shouts, but reassesses her surroundings and takes a deep breath t calm herself. "I do believe you, Delphine, I really do. But how do I believe something impossible?"

"I don't know…" Delphine murmurs, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't know," she repeats, head shaking from side to side as her tears turn to weak cries. Imani is at her side immediately, holding her head against her chest.

"Delphine, don't cry," she soothes, stroking back the blonde hair plastered to her forehead.

Delphine's cries die out a few minutes later, turning into mere whimpers before she speaks again. "What do I do?"

"Did you go to the police?" Delphine gives her a look. "Okay, yeah, stupid question." Imani looks back to the purse as she speaks. "What else do you know about her?"

Before Delphine can respond, a vibration cuts her off, drawing both women's attention to the handbag discarded on the floor. Imani reaches over and pulls it them, dumping its contents onto the hardwood floor.

The green phone is vibrating against the wood, the other phone lying silently next to it. Imani picks them both up, eyes switching between the two.

"What the fuck? _Two_ phones?"

"I don't understand it, either."

"Have you answered either of them?"

"What?" Delphine whips around to face her. "Non! Absolutely not!"

"Why?"

"_Why?_ Is that even a serious question? _Why?_" Delphine furrows her brow. "Don't you think whoever would notice that I don't sound like her?"

"You don't know what she sounds like?"

"Non, I only…" she swallows. "I only know what she looks like. I didn't get to do much before I watched her fall…" she trails off, diverting her gaze to the floor.

"Jesus," was Imani's only response. They fall into another silence, the green phone having stopped ringing a while ago.

"What do I do?" Delphine asks timidly, playing with her fingers in her lap.

"Right now, you need sleep," declares Imani, crouching to gather all the debris and shove it back into the purse. "Do you want to stay over? I have a pull out bed." Delphine looks at her with an eyebrow raised. "It's a bed in my couch. I can take off all the cushions and turn it into a bed."

"Oh," Delphine sighs. A part of her wants to go home, but she doesn't think she'll get much sleep at either place.

"Honestly, I'd feel better if you weren't alone tonight." With that, Delphine nods her head with a small smile. "C'mon, I have some old clothes from ex-boyfriends' you can sleep in. We need to get you out of these wet clothes. You feel like ice." She helps Delphine to her feet and takes her jacket, walking back towards the kitchen. "I'll make you some tea and then go grab you something comfortable."

Twenty minutes later and Imani bids Delphine a goodnight, promising to wake her up for class tomorrow. Delphine sits up on the makeshift bed, staring out the window with a hot cup of tea scorching her palms.

"What is going on," Delphine sighs, head hanging forlornly, steam from the cup licking the sides of her face.

* * *

The next morning, true to her word, Imani comes down the stairs to wake Delphine up, but the French woman is already up, just lying in bed with her eyes open.

"Hey," Imani greets softly, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "How'd you sleep?"

"Je ne dormais pas," Delphine whispers apologetically. "I kept seeing her face – my face – falling from the side of the roof every time I closed my eyes."

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't sleep much either."

"Why would that make me feel better? Now I feel worse."

Imani chuckles. "Nevermind. You want some coffee?"

"Oui, s'il vous plait."

"Alright, well, while I brew us a pot, you better go home and get ready. It'll take maybe twenty minutes before it's done, you'll at least get a change of clothes and your bag. You can do your make-up when you come back." Imani reaches over and squeezes her shoulder affectionately.

"Thank you." Delphine manages to sit up, slower than normal, and grabs her wet clothes from the pile she left them in next to the bean bags the night before. She fishes her key from her pants pocket while walking to the door, leaving Imani's place and heading over to her own.

Her apartment is cold, and Delphine shivers as she steps inside. She puts her wet clothes in the laundry room and heads up the stairs to fetch a clean (and preferably warm) outfit. She settles on a white sweater and plain jeans, snatching her pea coat from off her mattress and grabbing a pair of flats. She strips down and walks to the bathroom for a quick shower, stopping to take notice of her reflection in the mirror.

There are dark circles under her eyes, eyes that are still swirling with emotions Delphinecan't quite place. Her skin looks pale and clammy, her lips chapped with her mouth curved down slightly in a frown.

She pulls herself away to hop in the shower, which she manages to take in less than ten minutes, and steps out, patting herself dry with a white fluffy towel. She puts on her clothes quickly, walking into the next room to grab her messenger bag with all of her necessities: laptop, previous lab notes, transfer papers, pens and sticky-notes. She deposits her phone, house key and wallet into her bag's outer pocket, slinging it over her shoulder and leaving the apartment slowly.

Imani's waiting for her at the kitchen counter, an extra cup of coffee next to her, and the two women sit in silence until it's time to leave.

* * *

Delphine's sitting at her station, eye on the ocular lens of her microscope, but not really observing the sample in front of her. Her mind keeps wandering back to previous night, the woman, the crying, and the splattering sound of-

Delphine sits up straight, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Pas maintenant, Delphine," she chastises herself quietly. "Pas maintenant."

She hears a loud _thud_, followed by a whispered "_shit_" from her left. Delphine cocks her head to the side, seeing the top of someone's dreads as they crouch on the other side of the desk.

"Is everything okay?" Delphine implores, spinning around in her chair to fully face the stranger.

"Yeah, it's cool, I just dropped my – hey!" The girl looks at her and her face breaks into a stunning grin. "Delphine!"

"Cosima?" Delphine asks a little bewildered.

"Yeah, hey! Hi!" Cosima's smile widens. "When I thought we'd run into each other, I didn't think it'd be so soon."

Delphine finds herself returning Cosima's smile with ease. "Me neither."

Cosima glances quickly at Delphine's untouched pile of papers before locking eyes with her again. "You stuck on something?"

"Non, it's just… I can't focus."

"Ah, first day jitters getting the best of you?"

Delphine forces, what she hopes to be, a believable smile as she nods somberly, but Cosima doesn't looked convinced.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes," Delphine pauses before puffing out some air, blowing stray hairs out of her eyes. "Actually, non, not exactly."

"What's up?" Cosima grabs her chair and rolls it in front of Delphine's desk, plopping down ungracefully. She leans forward on her elbows; Delphine blushes from her sudden closeness.

"It's just, um…"

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," Cosima waves her hand dismissively at herself. "You don't know me very well – at all, actually. You don't need to tell me what's going on. Totally overstepped my boundaries."

"Non, je ne me dérange pas," she blushes more and grins when Cosima's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Sorry. I meant that I don't mind. It was nice of you to be concerned."

Cosima's smile is bashful, tongue pressing against her teeth as she dips her head. Delphine feels her heart do a tiny leap.

"I went out for a drink last night, and-"

"Did some guy try to hit on you?" Cosima interrupts, rolling her eyes. "Ugh, I hate that, man. It's just like, 'Hey, buddy, you're cute and all, but I'm trying to enjoy my drink, here.' It's a total pain in the ass."

"No, nothing like that," Delphine chuckles quietly. "I was at Artist's Quarter last night, and…" she trails off, Cosima's eyes flash in knowing.

"Oh, man, were you there when the girl jumped?"

Delphine could only nod.

"She fell right on her face. They couldn't tell who she was; the fall smashed her skull into something unrecognizable." Cosima watched Delphine draw back into herself, so she reached out to place a comforting hand on her forearm. "Wow, I'm not helping you at all this morning. I'm so sorry, Delphine. Did you… Did you see it happen?"

"Yes," Delphine breathed out. "Oui, I saw her."

"I can't imagine how you're feeling."

"I didn't sleep last night."

"Really? I couldn't tell. You look beautifully refreshed," Cosima tries to lighten the mood, and despite her growing sadness, Delphine smiles meaningfully, cheeks reddening.

"Merci."

"Aha, I understood that one," Cosima says through a crooked grin. "I have to get back to my lab, but what would you say if I asked you out for a coffee when you get out later today?"

"Today?" Delphine asked, eyes wide.

"Is today no good?"

Delphine suddenly finds herself growing nervous. She's never been the nervous type. "No, no, it's good, it's just… I… my neighbor promised to go take me furniture shopping, since my apartments bare, and-"

"It's cool, I understand," Cosima cuts her off with a casual grin.

"But I would still love to go out for coffee with you," Delphine rushes out, cheeks turning an even darker shade of crimson at the amused expression on Cosima's face.

"Okay, well, do you have some paper and a pen? I'll give you my number."

"Oui!" Delphine doesn't move for a second, then shakes her head and searches around for a pen and sticky note. "Oui, yes, I have some," she mutters to herself, finding them in her bag and handing them over to Cosima. She scribbles her name and number down onto the paper and hands it back to Delphine, her script elegantly messy.

"Call me when you have some free time, okay?" Cosima smiles and pats Delphine's desk, pushing herself back around to her own desk and giving Delphine a warm grin.

Delphine manages to get back to work that day, in a better mood than when she came to class that day.

* * *

"What's that smile for, Delphine?" Imani bumps her shoulder with a smirk as the two walk to Imani's car in the parking garage.

"It's nothing," Delphine waves her off, but her slight blush gives her away.

"It's not nothing. I know that look." They get to Imani's car, but the other girl moves in front of Delphine's door before she has a chance to open it. "Spill."

Delphine sighs, seeing as how Imani won't budge unless she tells her. "I met someone. Well, actually, ran into. I met her at the airport when I first got here."

"Her?" Imani raises an eyebrow in amusement, and for a moment Delphine can't breathe. But Imani smirks playfully, and Delphine visibly relaxes. "Chill, I'm not a homophobe."

"I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to. It was written all over your face." Imani chuckles. "So, what's her name?"

"Cosima."

"Pretty," Imani nods in approval. "Is she as pretty as her name suggests?"

"Oui, she is… quite beautiful." Her smile is shy.

"Aw, Delphine," Imani shoves her playfully. "So, what happened?"

"She asked me out for coffee."

"And?" Imani's eyes widen in a childlike interest, ready to tease her friend.

"I told her I was busy today."

"What? Why?"

Delphine raises an eyebrow in befuddlement. "What do you mean, 'why'? You are taking me to the furniture store today, are you not?"

"You could have totally blown me off to have coffee with this girl!"

"That would have been rude."

"If you had told me why, I wouldn't have cared."

"But I got her number instead?"

Imani's lips morph into a Cheshire cat-like grin. "Oh, better. Way better. Have you texted her yet?"

"Non."

"You're slow. Here, give me your phone."

"Quoi? Pourqoui?"

"I'll text her for you."

"I am perfectly capable of texting Cosima myself."

"But you haven't yet, have you?" Delphine looks off to the side, lip tucked between her teeth. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Hand it over."

Delphine stares down at Imani's outstretched hand before sighing in defeat. She reaches down in her jacket pocket for her phone, but instead, her blood runs cold at the unfamiliar object.

"What?"

Delphine lifts the lime green phone from her pocket.

"Merde," Delphine's eyes widen in horror. "I grabbed the wrong one!"

"Christ. Okay, well, I'll wait, just run back up and swi-"

She's cut off by a loud chiming tone as the phone rings in Delphine's hand.

"That thing is a serious pain in the ass."

"Oui."

"Answer it."

"Quoi? _Êtes-vous fou?_"

"No, I'm not. Just do it." They stare at each other, Imani's gaze unwavering. "Whoever it is won't stop until you do."

"But I don't sound like her!"

"You could. How's your American accent?"

"Horrible!"

The phone stops ringing, but picks back up again seconds later.

"Just do it," Imani says, ripping the phone from Delphine's hand and clicks answer. Delphine glares back at her as she holds the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" A woman prompts on the other end. Delphine remains silent. "Hello? Juliette? Are you there?" Her voice holds such an affectionate familiarity, one that reminds Delphine of her mother, and she paralyzed again.

"Is someone there?" Imani mouths. Delphine nods in response. "Say something."

"Hellooooo?" The woman continues, and Delphine can't stand it. She snatches the phone from Imani's hand and presses end faster than lightning.

Imani stares at her incredulously. "Dude!"

"There was a woman…"

"Why didn't you talk to her!?"

"She… I… I couldn't."

"Why not?" Imani tries to grab the phone again, but Delphine moves it away.

"She sounded so… relieved and… motherly. I couldn't…"

"Oh, man," Imani's expression turns somber. "Do you think it was her mom?"

"Non," Delphine shakes her head. "It was labeled as "_A_". But, it had to have been someone she was close to. Like a friend or lover."

"This is getting weird," Imani rubs her temple.

"_Getting?_"

"Okay, this _is_ weird. Like, Stephen King fucking weird. I don't like it."

"Me neither."

* * *

Delphine walks through an abandoned playground with two coffees in hand, no one else in sight. Imani was talking with the men at the store when she noticed Delphine getting antsy/restless/bored/insert-word-here, and asked for to grab them some coffees. Delphine was grateful for distraction, her mind kept wandering back to the woman on the phone.

She decided to take a longer route back to the store, so she took a turn at down an alley and found herself at this playground. Bits of snow crunch beneath her feet as she makes her away around the swing set, watching them sway in the mild breeze.

"Juliette!" Someone calls, stopping Delphine in her tracks. "Juliette!" They repeat, and Delphine can feel her heart begin to race.

She hears footsteps approaching her from behind, but she can't make her body move.

"Juliette," the voice is closer now, thick with an accent, sounding out of breath as they come closer and closer. Delphine hears them wheeze.

"Juliette," the person places a hand on Delphine's shoulder and spins her around.

Delphine drops the coffees to the ground.

It's her… again. Herself.

_Nouveau?!_

The woman who stands before Delphine looks incredibly sickly, eyes sunken into her head and bloodshot, skin pale and sweaty, mouth tinted a dark red, her dyed auburn hair sticking to her forehead. The woman turns her head to cough into a tissue, spitting out bits of what look like…

Blood.

Delphine jumps back.

"Juliette, it's me!" The woman sputters, blood staining her lips. Her accent is thick, something foreign. Delphine's too frightened to think about it.

"_Éloignez-vous!_" Delphine shouts, scrambling backwards, losing her footing and falling into a pile of mulch. The woman looks at her with a strange expression.

"When did you learn French?" The woman asks, a panicked look slowly creeping up onto her features.

"Who are you?" Delphine's heart races in her chest as the woman takes a step towards her. "Éloignez-vous! I said stay back!"

"Juliette, it's me," the woman's eyes water. "It's me, Gisela! Gisela Klein! Reese said you would help me! I need to speak with your scientist friend!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Delphine shouted back. She looks around for an escape, spotting Imani's car round the counter. She's sighs in relief but becomes frigid once more as she looks up at the other Doppelganger. "Leave me alone!"

"I need your help! You said-"

"Je ne sais pas qui vous êtes! Laissez-moi tranquille!" Delphine pushes herself back up, and Gisela clamps down onto her shoulders, eyes hardening into something unreadable.

"Just one, I am a few. No family too. Who am I?"

"Quoi?" Delphine shoves her back. "How the hell should I know?!"

"You're not Juliette…" The woman states, eyes glazing over in betrayal. "You're not Juliette!" She shouts, moving swiftly to follow Delphine, coughing into her bloodied rag. "Where is Juliette?" She grabs ahold of Delphine's jacket, spinning her around to face her again.

Delphine manages to spot Imani exiting her car and quickly making her way over to the two of them before she's spun around again. In an act of desperation, she goes to shove the woman away once more, but a loud noise from afar freezes her as something splashes across her face, the woman going slack in her arms as they tumble to the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: i'm horribly inconsistant with updates please forgive me. my beta and i have been really busy these past two weeks, so this update is pretty late. but, i'll try and have chapter four posted on time (or, rather, close to on time). my beta says she ships delphine and imani and it makes me laugh (does anyone else feel that way)? anywho, that you for your reviews, so here's chapter three! (right? chapter three?)**

* * *

The water around her is tainted a light red, bubbles losing their jovial feeling being tinted the color of blood.

She sinks lower, chin disappearing into the murky liquid as she hugs her legs closer to her chest. Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes, willing away the images that play through her mind like a symphony, the melody of a gunshot reverberating through her mind.

She's too exhausted to cry; two days of crying is enough to toss a person into a state of lassitude. Her limbs feel heavy in the warm bath, the emotional distress finally taking its toll on her body.

A soft rap on the door has her opening her eyes slowly, glancing as Imani slips into the bathroom with a clean towel and ashtray in hand. She sits down on the toilet and Delphine maneuvers into a more suitable position, putting a cigarette between her lips and graciously accepting the small flame Imani ignites for her.

"Merci," she whispers, taking a slow drag.

"Smoking isn't allowed in the building, you know," Imani murmurs, eyes flickering down to the ashtray in her hands. "Those things are terrible for you. I don't know what people find so pleasing about them."

"It takes some of the edge off."

Sighing, Imani shrugs before plucking another cigarette from the pack and lighting one for herself. Delphine raises an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that," Imani teases as she breathes in the sickly sweet smoke, coughing when she exhales. "I don't have any liquor in my house, so this will have to suffice." She takes another drag, wheezing less this time around when she lets it back out.

Hazel eyes twinkle with vague amusement as Delphine turns back to look at the water, pale skin clashing with the harsh red.

"I pulled a body off you…" Imani says, not really speaking to Delphine. While brushing the bangs back from her forehead, she repeats: "A body…"

"I know." Not really sure how to console the girl beside her in obvious distress, she watches the cigarette shake between Imani's trembling fingers.

They sit silently, smoking and flicking away the ashes.

"It's still in my trunk," Imani chuckles darkly. "There's a _body_ in the trunk of my car."

Delphine frowns. "I don't know why you did that. We could have just left it there."

Imani whips around to face her. "Um, no, no we could not have. You're… whatever the fuck is supposed to have jumped off a roof." Delphine cringes, but Imani ignores her and continues. "How are they going to react when they find her laying face-down with a bullet hole in her skull in the middle of an abandoned playground, when she's supposed to be ice cold, sitting in a morgue? And, not to mention, living and breathing, lounging in a tub right now, slowly aiding the deterioration of her lungs?"

"Vous êtes aussi de fumer."

"That's not the point I'm trying to make, Delphine."

"I know."

"Do you really?"

She pauses a few moments.

"No."

Imani finishes off her cigarette and crushes it in the ashtray, standing up and massaging her temples. She taps her foot against the floor and paces back and forth in the small space.

"Arrêter cela," Delphine glowers. "You're making me feel even worse."

"I can't sit still," the darker woman admits. "If I stop moving, it's going to just crash down on me."

"Please sit," Delphine begs, her tone flat. Imani hesitates but does as she's asked, sitting down and leaning back against the frame of the tub. Delphine tilts her head back until it's resting on the wall of the shower behind her. "What am I going to do?"

"We're going to get rid of it," she responds almost instantly; Delphine's head snaps up to look at her incredulously.

"We?" She shakes her head the other girl. "Non, I'm going to get rid of it. I can't drag you any further into this-this… whatever it is."

"I'm already in the deep end, Delphine. I'm just treading water, waiting for the next thing to happen," she turns her head to give the French woman a lopsided smile. "You can't force me out of this, even if you tried harder than that."

"It's not right to bring you into this mess."

"Je ne m'inquiète pas vraiment ce que vous pensez."

"Hey," Delphine chuckles, "you can't use French to weasel your way out of this! Or, into it, rather."

Imani joins in on the laughter, but its cut short when her expression turns apprehensive.

"What is it, Imani?"

"I'm probably going to break so, _so_ many laws for you."

"May I ask you something?" Delphine prompts, twisting to better face Imani. The other girl nods in response. "Why _are_ you helping me? I mean, you could have just left me to fend for myself, non?"

Imani seems to mull it over for some time before shrugging halfheartedly.

"You're the most interesting thing to happen to me in a long time," she answers calmly. "Plus, I have a natural curiosity for the weird."

"You're strange."

"I don't think you have any room to talk."

* * *

The shovels in the backseat clank together loudly as Imani drives across an old dirt road, her car isolated from the rest of the world by a forest of trees. They've been driving for almost an hour, the entire ride silent except for Imani asking Delphine if she was still sure about this. She was.

They pull off to the side some twenty minutes later, stepping out onto the uneven terrain and snatching a shovel from the backseat. They place them on the ground beside Imani's back tires and head to the trunk, exchanging a glance before popping it open.

The stench is horrible; neither woman know how to properly react to the smell of decaying flesh. Delphine gags and turns away as Imani covers her nose with her free hand.

"C'mon," she struggles to say, yanking on Delphine's sleeve. "Let's… just get this over with."

Heaving the body from the trunk, they drag it off into the woods where they start to dig a hole. Delphine searches the woman's pocket as Imani digs, finding the woman's passport and hotel room card, of which she notifies Imani. Imani couldn't care less, and orders Delphine to come over and help her "_dig this damn hole so they can cover her ass_." They're not sure how long it takes them, but eventually the ditch is big enough for them to roll the body into, it landing face up and staring up at them with unmoving, hollow eyes.

"This is so creepy," Imani adds; Delphine makes a sound of acknowledgement.

"We're going to have to clean out your trunk…" Delphine shakes her head. "Jésus-Christ. I can't wrap my head around this."

"You're telling me."

"I'm going to get deported."

"Try arrested."

After filling the hole and covering it with leaves and other debris, the pair makes their way back to Imani's car. They go to place the shovels in the trunk, but Delphine stops Imani with a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait, shouldn't we just put these in backseat again?"

Imani scoffs. "We can ruin my trunk all we want, but I will _not_ put a dirty ass shovel on my leather seats." She snatches Delphine's shovel and tosses into the trunk along with her own.

They pull up to a car wash after stopping by the store where they picked cleaning essentials, and scrub Imani's trunk down, getting rid of as much as the smell of rotted flesh as they can. Delphine takes out the carpeting and brushes with bleach and lime, Imani washing the inside out with a power hose and pine-scented cleaner. When they finish, they have buckets filled with soapy, bloody water, which they dump down the drain before putting her trunk back together. As they're walking back to the front doors, Imani calls for Delphine to stop.

"Hey, wait, there's something in your hair," she says, walking around the front of her car to face Delphine and reaching up to pick the object from her tresses. "What is-"

"Oh, it looks like… left over brain matter."

"_WHAT?!_" Imani screams, throwing it to the ground and squashing it into the pavement with her boot. "I thought you washed yourself off? You've been walking around with brain bits in your hair for _hours _and you didn't notice?!"

"Hush!" Delphine clamps a hand over Imani's mouth, the darker girl's eye widening in disgust. "My mind was preoccupied."

"Ew, gross, Delpine!" Imani gags, shoving Delphine's arm away. "Out of everything that happened today, that was by far the nastiest."

* * *

Waking up the next morning is harder for Delphine than she expected. After refusing Imani's insistent demands for her to stay over again, Delphine rouses in her own bed, even though the previous night all she did was toss and turn, fighting off the nightmares that threatened to take over.

She meets Imani at the elevator on her way to class, accepting the coffee the girl hands her. Imani loops her arm through Delphine's and squeezes it gently, putting Delphine somewhat at ease as they make their way to class together.

Studying once again seems futile to Delphine as she sits at a table in the library, open textbooks and lab notes scattered around her work space. Nothing seems to be sinking in, no matter how much she studies her materials. Her mind is too far off, wondering about the next time she'll run into another version of herself, wondering what this one will be like, wondering if they'll be from another country, wondering if there will be anymore or not, or if the last one was truly the last.

Frustrating herself, she slams her book shut, sending her papers scattering across the ground. She mumbles curses under her breath as she scoops them up, trying to gather them in a pile when her phone begins to chime.

Leaving her papers in a disorganized pile, she reaches for the device to open the text.

_Don't look now, but there's some girl with dreads checking you out from the other side of the room._

Delphine looks up and makes eye contact with Imani, currently sitting at a computer across from her. Despite being told not to, Delphine cranes her neck to the side, where she sees an amused looking Cosima staring at her, twisting a pen cap between her teeth. She offers Delphine a small wave and Delphine blushes, giving her a smile in response.

_That's Cosima_, Delphine replies to Imani, glancing over at her, waiting for her reaction. She reads it, cocks an eyebrow, and smirks as she types out a comeback.

_She is totally eye banging you. Go talk to her._

Delphine's blush increases as Imani mouths "go!" to her with a not-so-subtle tilt of her head. Delphine shakes her head, and Imani's stare hardens. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of the girl's glare any longer, Delphine hops up from her chair and makes her way over to Cosima, who pretends to be nonchalant about the exchange between the two women as Delphine takes a seat across from her.

"We meet again," Cosima says coyly, marking her place in her book and setting it down to give Delphine her full attention.

"Bonjour, Cosima."

"Hello."

"What are you up to?"

"Um," Cosima gestures to the array of papers in front of her, "studying?"

"Oh, right."

Cosima chuckles. "What are you up to?"

"Studying, as well."

"Really? It seemed like you were taking out some anger on your poor text book over there."

"Ah," Delphine nods slowly, looking away. "I… couldn't focus."

"Again?"

"A lot has been on mind recently."

Cosima's gaze softens. "Is the whole suicide thing still eating at you?"

Delphine shrugs her shoulders with a sigh.

"You need to relax, Delphine." Cosima reaches over to pat her hand. "Worrying about it won't do you any good."

"I know, but the… the image of her is still si vives. So vivid."

Cosima seems to ponder this before perking up. "How do you feel about getting out of here? I think I know how to take your mind off this."

"Oh? Vriament?"

"Yeah! Grab your things, and tell your friend," Cosima points to Imani who ducks behind her monitor, acting like she hadn't just been watching their exchange, "that you're leaving with me."

"You're quite bossy," Delphine smirks but complies, walking over to gather her things. She sends out a quick text to Imani, letting her know she's going somewhere with Cosima, and Imani responds almost immediately.

_Get some._

Delphine laughs out loud, earning an authoritarian "shh!" from the librarian, who only glares at her when Delphine offers a feeble apology.

Cosima is waiting for her by the end of a bookshelf, grasping Delphine's elbow to lead her out of the building and outside

"Où allons-nous?" Delphine asks as she's lead down the sidewalk.

"I don't speak French, you know," Cosima responds idly, looking both ways before tugging Delphine across the street. "No matter how cool it sounds, I don't understand you."

"Right…" Delphine snickers at herself. "Where are we going?"

"First, I'm taking you to get these crazy good milkshakes to go, then we're headed back to my place."

"Nous allons revenir à votre maison?"

Cosima chuckles. "What did I _just_ say?"

"Right, right, Je suis désolée. _I'm sorry_!"

"Are you nervous or something?" Cosima ponders, craning her neck up to look Delphine in the eye. "Afraid to step into my lair?"

"Non! Not at all. I am not scared."

"I can feel you shaking."

Cosima leads them to a bus stop, where the two women wait patiently for it to arrive, making idle chit-chat to pass the time. Once it comes, Cosima grabs Delphine's hand and pulls her on board, standing up next to her when they find no open seats. They balance themselves with a grip on the same pole; each time the driver goes over a bump, their hands brush against one another's, and both apologize with sheepish smiles at every innocent touch. About ten minutes later, Cosima nods towards the entrance, where they exit the bus once it lurches to a stop. Delphine watches Cosima eyes light up as she spots a quaint diner across the street, one she's never seen before.

"C'mon!" Cosima urges, tugging on the sleeve of Delphine's jacket. "It's just across the street. I swear these milkshakes are, like, killer."

Once inside, Cosima orders them two strawberry milkshakes to go, refusing Delphine's advances when she tries to pay. "My treat," she says with a cheeky grin, accepting their order from the young waitress with a smile on her face. They head outside and Cosima hails down a cab, giving the driver orders back to her apartment complex

They stop outside Cosima's door, the shorter women fiddling with her lock, unable to get it open. Delphine finds it endearing to watch her struggle with something so simple. She manages to unlock the door, doing a little dance of accomplishment and making Delphine giggle. A blush rises to Cosima's cheeks at the sound, and she pulls Delphine inside with her.

Even though she doesn't know Cosima well at all, her apartment seems very her, with trinkets and textbooks littered around the space, used mugs and ashtrays crowding around the computer desk placed in the center of the room. She takes Delphine's milkshake from her hand and puts both of them in the freezer.

"Can I take your jacket?" Cosima asks, shrugging off her own and gesturing to Delphine's.

"Sure," Delphine grins softly, Cosima's fingertips brushing against the skin of her shoulders as she peels the wool coat from her arms. Delphine has to suppress a shiver.

"So, this is my pad. Sorry it's such a mess, I really wasn't expecting any company."

"It's okay, really. At least you have furniture."

"I thought you and your friend went furniture shopping the other day?"

"Oh, yes, well," Delphine trails off. "We did, but we never finished."

"I see," Cosima smirks and disappears around the corner, returning a few seconds later with an intricate looking box in her hands and taking a seat on her couch. She beckons Delphine over with a wave of her hand; Delphine crosses the room with hesitance, unfamiliar with her surroundings. "You don't have to look so freaked, I won't bite."

The rosy blush from earlier reappears on Delphine's cheeks as she takes a seat beside Cosima, who opens the box and pulls out a small ashtray, setting it on the cushion between them.

"Cigarettes?" Delphine cocks an eyebrow. "If you wanted a cigarette, you should have just asked. I have plenty in my ba-"

"No, no, not cigarettes," Cosima cuts her off, retrieving a baggie from inside the wooden box. "Pot."

"Pot?" Delphine's eyes widen. "As in…"

"Marijuana, yeah," Cosima grins cheekily, but her expression turns worrisome as she notices Delphine's apprehensive body language. "Oh, wow, dude I totally forgot to ask if you were okay with this kind of thing. I'm so sorry, Delphine."

"Non, non, don't be sorry, it's just that I've never…" she lets her sentence fall out as Cosima nods in understanding.

"Well, do you want to?"

"What does it feel like?"

Cosima grins. "Why don't you figure it out for yourself?"

* * *

Delphine rolls her head from side to side, taking in Cosima's décor from her odd position on the couch. "Your furniture looks strange this way."

"That's because you're upside-down."

"Oh, oui, c'est vrai." Delphine erupts into a fit of giggles as she takes in Cosima's furrowed brow. "Sorry." She goes to sit up right, but stops halfway as she's hit with a sudden wave of sluggishness. "Whoa."

"Yeah, abrupt movements like that are not recommended," Cosima laughs, taking a seat on the floor in front of Delphine, who slowly maneuvered herself into a seated position on the couch.

"Your cushions… they are so soft."

"Dude, you're so baked."

"Non! That is not true!" Delphine responds, licking her lips and swallowing. "I am very thirsty."

Cosima smacks herself on the forehead. "Oh, crap! I forgot about our milkshakes!" She stands and runs over to the freezer, pulling the two drinks out and bringing them back over to the space on the couch, setting them off to the table on the side. "We should probably let these thaw a bit, so, in the meantime…" she reaches into the box to pull out another cigarillo, leaning over to the trashcan to gut out the tobacco. "Let's get stoned some more."

"I like this," Delphine smiles lazily, "this baking think."

Cosima laughs. "Do you?"

"Oui. I feel very light. And hungry. And thirsty."

"If you want, I think I may have some Doritos in my cabinet somewhere. You can go and look for them, if you want. They should be above the stove."

"Those sound so good, but," Delphine turns to bat her eyelashes at Cosima, "I am too comfortable to move."

Chuckling in disbelief, Cosima finishes rolling the blunt and puts her mouth on the end, sealing it closed before she stands up and walks over to her kitchen. "Fine, but only because you're cute."

"Merveilleux!" Delphine exclaims, flopping back down on the couch, stretching her arms over her head. "Cosima, I must thank you."

"For?" She calls out from the kitchen.

"For helping me have such a nice time today. I really feel a lot better."

"Don't thank me," Cosima comes back into view, a bag of chips in one hand and a jar of peanut butter in the other, unlit blunt hanging from her mouth. "It was thanks to the pot."

"Oui, that too, but mainly you, so… merci, chérie." Delphine smiles broadly at the blush forming on Cosima's cheeks. The brunette shakes her head and Delphine takes note of what is in her hands. "Cool Ranch Doritos and… peanut butter?"

"It's amazing."

"It sounds rancid."

"Don't knock it 'till you try it. It's awesome."

"I do not believe you. Two things like that should not go together."

Cosima laughs, nudging Delphine's legs out of the way so she has a place to sit. She puts the items on the floor next to her feet and moves to grab her lighter, hand brushing against Delphine's knee as she reaches across her. Delphine feels her breathe hitch and her skin tingle beneath her jeans where Cosima had touched her.

"That feels funny," she says out loud without realizing.

"What?" Cosima asks, flicking a flame up to light the blunt between her lips. Delphine's cheeks redden.

"N-nothing," Delphine forces a smile as she watches Cosima's lips part, the smoke flowing entrancingly from between them. The smoke twists and curls around the frame of her glasses, turning her into a piece of art in front of Delphine's eyes. Cosima passes her the blunt after she takes another puff, Delphine making sure not to brush her fingers against Cosima's as she takes it from her fingers and lifts it to her own mouth, taking a long drag. She holds it in for a few moments, releasing it casually as she loses herself in the feeling of being relaxed.

* * *

Delphine groggily makes her way through the hallway towards her apartment, careful not to make any noise. She left Cosima's pretty late after they had watched a movie, where Delphine had paid more attention to Cosima's face as it crinkled in laughter than whatever was actually making her laugh.

She opens her front door and trudges up the stairs to her room, all but throwing herself onto her bed, completely exhausted. She decided on sending a quick text to Imani, letting her know she was finally home, just managing to wiggle out of her jeans before crawling underneath her sheets.

A ringing interrupts her impending sleep and she fumbles around for it, growing annoyed as it continued to chime. _Couldn't this wait until tomorrow, Imani?_

"Hello?" She answers angrily, not suppressing the scowl that takes over face.

"H-Hello?" an unfamiliar voice greets her on the other end, and Delphine feels her blood run cold. She holds to the phone out to examine it, only to see it covered in a green case. _Oh, Merde!_

"Hello?" the voice repeats impatiently. "Juliette? Is that you?"

Delphine panics, putting the phone back to her ear. "Ou- yes, it's me," she answers in the best accent she can muster.

"Juliette?"

"Yeah? What? Do you know what time it is?" Delphine cringes at her own horrible accent, hoping whoever was on the other end didn't pick up on it.

"You sound awful, are you feeling ill?" The woman's voice, whom Delphine recognizes from the other day asks her.

"Yeah… I think I may have come down with something," Delphine whispers.

"Ah, so that's why you weren't taking my calls. I was beginning to think you were ignoring me." The woman chuckles heartily, but Delphine remains quiet, the laughter dying out and turning into an awkward cough. "Well, I guess I should get right to the point, then."

"Couldn't this have waited?" Delphine's heart races in her chest as she continues on the conversation, even though every fiber of her being is screaming "_Hang up! Hang up, you idiot! Raccrocher le telephone!_"

"Well, no, not really, since you haven't answered any of our calls in the last few days."

_Our?_

"I'm sick."

"I can hear."

"Can you just get to the point, please? I want to go back to sleep."

She hears the woman huff in annoyance. "I suppose. Has the German contacted you yet?"

_The… the German._

Delphine swallows. "Um, yes, she… she has."

"That didn't sound good."

"Well, she did talk to me, but," Delphine sits up, clutching the bed sheet to her chest. "She… she was shot."

"W-…What?"

"She was shot. Killed, right in front of me. Or, on me, actually."

The line is silent. "Juliette, if this is some kind of joke…"

"Why would I joke about something like that?"

"Oh, oh my God. This… this isn't good. Did she at least give you the briefcase?"

"Briefcase?"

"Yes, her briefcase she brought with her. I need it, desperately. Do you have it?"

Delphine thinks back to the park, trying to remember if the German woman had carried anything with her besides that bloody tissue.

"No, she didn't have a briefcase with her when we… spoke, briefly." Delphine rubbed her temples, feeling a headache start to form.

"She…" the woman swallows, "she was staying at a hotel nearby you. Do you possibly have her room key?"

Delphine pauses. "I think I might."

"Okay, well, tomorrow I need you to go and see if she had brought the briefcase with her. It's crucial. I'll be visiting in a few days, and I desperately need what's inside it."

"What is in it?" Delphine implores. Hearing the woman sigh, she feels her heart sink.

"You know I can't tell you, Juliette, not yet." There's a long pause where Delphine hears the woman breathing harshly before clearing her throat. "I should let you get some rest. I'm sorry for calling this late."

"It's okay. Goodnight."

"Juliette, I-" Delphine hangs up before the woman can finish her sentence, her body dropping down to the mattress as her once heavy eyelids now refuse to shut.


	4. Chapter 4

The slam of a coffee cup against the marble jolts Delphine awake.

She looks up to Imani's scowl peering down at her, holding a mug similar to the one on the counter between her hands.

"You haven't slept. Again," Imani chides, shaking her head. "This isn't healthy, you know."

"Oui, I know, but," Delphine licks her lips out of nervousness, her friend's gaze making her uneasy. "I can't stop thinking about that phone call."

Imani groans, striding over to Delphine's side and plopping down on the empty bar stool next to her.

Delphine continues after picking up her mug and taking a sip of the scorching caffeine. "I need to find that briefcase the woman was talking about."

"No, you need to sleep."

"It is impossible to sleep with something like this eating away at my mind."

"Well," Imani smirks, "your sleuthing skills certainly won't improve if you can barely hold up a magnifying glass, Sherlock Holmes."

Delphine chuckles into her coffee, steam billowing around her nose. The strong taste peels away a piece of her exhaustion, one large enough for her to realize she has burnt her tongue.

"Ah, Merde! J'ai brûlé ma langue!" She squeaks, tongue between her lips as she rushes over towards the kitchen sink, hoping to find some relief in the form of cold water.

"It's hot, by the way."

Delphine's rebuttal is muffled by the stream of water pouring down onto her tongue. A few seconds pass, and the roaring heat on her muscle turns into a dull burn. She leans up and turns off the faucet, pivoting to face her smirking friend while wiping the water from off her chin.

"Maybe you should take a day off from school," her friend suggests, spoon clanking against the rim of her mug as she stirs in some sugar. "I mean, you're ahead in all of you classes aren't you?"

"Oui."

"Then take a mental health day," Imani's eye's rake over her disheveled form, "because you look like shit."

Delphine sighs, a hand moving from her side up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Even if I took a day off, it would not quell my curiosity," she states, twirling a hand in the air for emphasis. Opening her eyes and glancing at her friend, she continues, "You cannot tell me you aren't dying to know what's inside that briefcase. Or where it is, for that matter."

"Trust me; my curiosity is eating away at me too, but not enough that it's affecting my sleep schedule."

"Sleep schedule? Those exist?"

"I'm a very punctual person." Imani dismisses her statement with a wave. "Don't get sidetracked from the conversation."

Delphine arches an eyebrow. "_What_ conversation? This whole time you've been berating me about not sleeping, and then teasing me because I look horrible."

"I'm trying to make a point."

"Eh bien, votre point est irritant moi."

Sighing, Imani stands, abandoning her mug on the counter and positioning herself in front of the French woman.

"What's it going to take for you to get some decent rest, Delphine?"

She shrugs. "Figuring out what's going on."

Imani frowns.

"I was afraid you'd say that." She hangs her head and takes a deep breath. "So, what did this woman say on the phone?"

"That the German woman was supposedly carrying a briefcase with her."

"She didn't have one when she was murdered in the park, did she?"

Delphine cringes from her friend's crass choice of words. "Non, she only had a bloody tissue. But, I did find her hotel key card."

Scratching her head, Imani asks, "Do you think that maybe it's there?"

"Il ya une seule façon de le savoir," Delphine smirks. "Can I borrow some of your most outlandish clothing? I have this gut feeling there is a fur coat somewhere in your closet."

* * *

Imani lurches the car to a stop just a block away from the Graves 601 Hotel, where the German's key card reads she was staying.

"You sure about this?" Imani asks Delphine for the hundredth time.

"Oui." Delphine pulls down the visor and flips open to its mirror, tucking away a few strands of blonde hair that had fallen out of her hat, finishing off her outfit with a large pair of sunglasses. She turns to her friend in the driver's seat. "How do I look?"

"Ridiculous."

Delphine scowls.

"What about my accent?" She changes the pitch and tone of her voice as best as she could, trying to match up with the German's.

"Even more horrible than your clothes."

"These are your clothes," she mutters under hear breath, swinging open the car door and slamming it shut once she's out on the sidewalk. Fumbling slightly in Imani's obscenely tall heels, Delphine struts down the street, mumbling words to herself in an accent under her breath, praying to whoever is listening that this plan goes well.

The glass doors of the entrance make no sound as she pushes one open, ducking her head slightly as she passes strangers in the lobby. She checks the card again for the room number and makes her way over to the elevators.

"Miss Klein?" Someone from behind calls out to her and her pulse skyrockets. "Miss Klein!" They try again, but her pace quickens as the cumbersome metal doors slide open. She jumps inside, pressing a button the have them shut just as a man in a suit approaches her from the other side. The doors seal her inside with silence, the movement of the elevator jostling her as it ascends to the upper floors.

When the doors slide open, Delphine steps out into the insolated hallway, its emptiness twisting her gut with nervousness. The air felt thicker with every step she took down the corridor, the tick of her heels against the hardwood floor echoing off every crevice. She keeps her head bowed as a few people pass her by, shoving a blonde strand of hair that had fell loose back into her hat.

She halts when she finds the desired room, and with trembling fingers slides the key card in the lock, the door clicking along with a green light signaling its opening.

The room has a dingy smell to it, like something had been rotting away inside. Immediately her stomach plummets at the fumes, and she covers her noise to stop herself from breathing it in; her actions don't aid her, and the foul odor grows stronger the farther she steps inside.

The bathroom door was cracked open, and from what she can see in the minimal light, the mirror had been smashed, glass shards scattered across the countertop; the sink itself had been broken, water leaking through the broken pipes and spraying across the small area. Delphine shakes her head and rounds the corner, the sight before her causing her to gasp.

Sheets are torn up and thrown across the mock living space, pillow stuffing littering the floors and stained a faint reddish hue. Red smears along the white wall behind the bed make her gut churn and she feels as if she's going to throw up. Delphine steps a bit closer to the bed and sees a small plastic doll, its hair cut off and dyed a sort of auburn. Her heart stops as realization hit her.

Gisela's assassin was here, in this very room, and had probably stood in the very same spot Delphine was now.

She picks the doll up and examines it in her hands: its eyes have been burned out and deep slashes scar its porcelain face. Delphine sets it back down and notices a Bible sitting idly nearby, pages torn out and dropped in crumpled balls next to her feet. Taking a closer look, she spies a verse circled in the same red coloring that marked the white walls next to her:

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made," Delphine reads aloud.

She tosses the doll onto the bed as a fresh wave of anxiety cripples her; she has to grip onto the bed's frame to keep herself from tumbling over.

The German woman had been targeted.

And that could mean she was next.

Banging on the suite's door rips Delphine from her daunting thoughts.

"Miss Klein!" A familiar voice shouts. It was the man from the lobby calling out to her. He pounds against the door again, this time more persistent. "Miss Klein, I know you're in there."

"Merde, the briefcase," Delphine curses under her breath, dropping to her knees to search under the bed. Nothing.

She stands and scuffles over to the dresser yanking drawers out with hope that the briefcase was hidden in one of them. She got to the last drawer, and like the ones before it, this one was empty, too.

"Miss Klein," the man barked once more, "if you don't open this door, I will be forced to break it down."

Sighing in irritation, Delphine turns on her heels and stalks over to the doors, her strides shaky.

Yanking the door open, she leans on her hip and against the door frame. The man in the suit is there, along with another, one much smaller than him, who was standing stiffly, hands clasped together behind his back. "_Ja_?" She asks in annoyance. "Is there something you want?"

"You need to come with us, now," the shorter man snarls and stalks off down the hallway. The man in the suit shakes his head and lightly grips Delphine's elbow, tugging her along with him as they and make their way towards the elevators.

After an immensely awkward and stiffly quiet ride down to the lobby, the man in the suit still holding to Delphine's elbow, the three of them make their way to the front desk after exiting the lift. The shorter man whips himself behind the counter and pulls out something from the printer beside him.

"Miss Klein," he says with his nose in the air, "there had been many complaints of overburdening noises coming from your room. After about the fifth one we received, we went up to room to find it completely destroyed. There was at least six thousand dollars' worth of damage done to our hotel suite.

"Ja, and your point?" Delphine asks stiffly.

"What was going _on_ up there?"

She panics. "Um, I was… having a party," she ends with a shrug.

"A party?" The man in the suit beside her questions in disbelief. "Ma'am, the sink is broken. What the heck is wrong with you?"

"Rock n' roll," she answers with a smirk.

The two men share a look, mouthing "rock n' roll?" to each other, before the desk clerk returns his attention to her.

"Miss Klein, you're going to have to pay for the damages."

"So?" Delphine forces herself to sound more miffed as the conversation continues on. "You have my card on file, ja?"

"…Right." The clerk begins typing away at his computer.

"I believe you may have something of mine. It was missing from my room," Delphine pipes.

"Oh?"

"A briefcase."

The clerk looks to the man in the suit and jerks his head to the side, the other man rolling his eyes and moving out of Delphine's sight. Delphine taps her fingers impatiently against the counter top and the clerk tries smiling at her.

"Must have been some party," he tries goading a reply out of her, but she ignores him and looks the other way, the pounding of her heart becoming almost deafening.

Moments later, the man in the suit returns, a briefcase in hand, while the clerk whips out another piece of paper from the printer and lays it down in front of her.

"Your card went through. I just need you to sign here," he indicates to a line at the bottom of the paper, handing Delphine a pen. She swallows and takes it with a shaking hand, staring hard down at the line for a few seconds before scribbling down a signature that she hopes reads "Gisela Klein."

The clerk takes the paper back from her and stares at the signature with half-closed eyes; Delphine grows even more uneasy as stays silent and examines the sheet. He looks back up at her with a tight lipped smile and nods his head.

"Thank you, Mrs. Klein." The man in the suit hands Delphine the briefcase, and before she can turn and leave the building, the clerk pipes up once more. "How are you enjoying the city?"

"It's killing me," she growls ironically, and she all but bolts out of the hotel's front doors.

* * *

Imani is speeding down the highway as Delphine struggles to force open the briefcase, none of her efforts giving any indication that the lock had even budged.

"Well?" Imani asks from the driver's seat.

"I cannot get it open," Delphine groans, fiddling with the number combination.

"Great. Now what?"

"Pull over somewhere."

"What?"

"_Faites-le!_"

Imani swerves over to an exit and peels off on an abandoned side street once they get further down the road. As soon as the car comes to a stop, Delphine flings the door open and trots over to a run-down barrier lining the street; Imani's calling out to her ignored as she slams the briefcase down. The heavy container swings back up and crashes against her knuckles, a shockwave of pain shooting up her arm. She tries again, and again, and again, until the latch snaps open and she scrambles to keep all of its contents inside. She pulls her cellphone from her pocket and uses its miniscule light source to search through it, vaguely registering Imani's footsteps approaching from behind.

She finds multiple folders inside, flipping them open and finding birth certificates and official documents all with pictures of women who look like her, but from different places around the world. There's a women from Spain, and another from Italy, and one more from Sweden. Imani was beside her now, taking in the information with wide eyes. Delphine shoves the documents in her hand as she continuously rummages through the case; Imani examines each paper in her hand slowly.

Delphine finds a copy of Gisela's passport and birth certificate at the bottom, murmuring a soft apology for her demise under her breath. She looks to the lip of the case, discovering three vials of blood and a piece of notebook paper tucked neatly in their respective indentations in the foam. She pulls a vial out and examines it, and from beside her, Imani makes a loud gagging sound.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Oui," Delphine answers with a nod. "These have to be the other women's blood samples."

"Gross!"

"Non!" Delphine whips around to face her. "I can take these to the lab and examine them myself."

"For_ what_?" Imani inquires with a look of disgust marring her features.

Delphine sighs, her shoulders sinking. "I do not know. But, maybe they could tell me who these women are, and if I am linked to them of not. I would need a sample of my own blood as well." She looks up at Imani with a brow raised. "How do you feel about drawing blood?"

Before Imani can respond, the shrill sound of the haunting green phone rings from Delphine's purse still sitting in the car; the two share a look of apprehension before Delphine walks over to retrieve it. She snatches it from her bag, and notices it was the number of the woman with whom she had spoken with the night before.

"It is her. That woman. Again."

"Don't answer it, Delphine."

"I have to." Imani tries to snatch it from her hands, but Delphine had already hit accept on the call, clearing her throat before speaking. "Yeah?"

"Oh, Juliette!" The woman sounded relieved. "I had been trying to reach you all day."

"Really?"

"Indeed! I wanted to know if you had found the briefcase yet."

Delphine looks back towards the object in question. "Yes, I have."

"Wonderful! Juliette, I need you t-"

"Hold on," Delphine interrupts, faux-accent falling slightly. "What does all of this mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"This stuff inside! What is with all of… these birth certificates and documents. And the blood!"

"…Juliette, we've gone over this before."

"_Baise cette!_" Delphine shouts. "I cannot do this anymore!"

"Hello?" The woman's voice grows concerned. "Juliette, what happened?"

"Juliette has stepped away," she growled down the line. "I want answers. Je méritent des réponses!"

She hears a sharp intake of breath and then the line plunges into silence, dial tone pining loudly in her ear.

* * *

The ride back the apartment complex is silent; Delphine sat staring out the window, arms crossed over her chest, Imani to her left sporting a frown.

"That was the stupidest thing you could have possibly done," Imani mumbles as she pulls the car into the parking garage.

Delphine inhales slowly, eyes drifting shut. Her head pounds with the early signs of a migraine.

"You had leverage, Delphine. You could have used it to your advantage."

"I still have the briefcase, don't I?" She snarls, refusing to face her friend.

"Yeah, but now, whomever that was has probably figured out that this whole time, you weren't really Juliette, or whatever. They don't trust you now."

"And trust is more important than leverage?"

"In my book, it is."

Pulling her knees to her chest, Delphine bumps her forehead against the window. "I feel like crying."

"Why?"

"This is too much to process, Imani. I saw someone die. I had another woman's brain matter spewed across my face. Some of it even got into my mouth. There are several women who look just like me, and I have no explanation as to why that is. It is all…" she waves her hands around as she searches for the correct words, "building up and bubbling over. It is too much."

Imani seems to ponder the new insight her friend has given her, remaining quiet for a few moments before speaking up once more. "Crying isn't going to solve this mystery." She reaches out to squeeze Delphine's forearm. "You're crazy smart, Delphine. You can figure this out; I know you can."

Delphine looks over to her and gives her a small but grateful smile.

"Let's take this upstairs and try and work out what this all means, yeah?"

* * *

Imani's kitchen counter is littered with the contents of the briefcase. Delphine paces back and forth with an open textbook in her hands, reading it silently to herself; Imani looms over the piles of paper, carefully deciphering each one and scribbling down bits of information on the notepad next to her.

"So, this is what I got," Imani states; Delphine stops her skimming to focus. "All of these women are the same age: twenty-eight years old, birthdays no more than a week apart from each other."

"But how is that so?" Delphine scratches her head. "If we are all twins, being born a week apart from each other is rather impossible. Actually, not rather; it is impossible."

"You're still holding onto that twin theory?"

Delphine shrugs. "Twins separated at birth. Only, there at least six of us. So, sextuplets separated at birth. It's most illogically logical situation I can entertain the idea of."

Imani pushes her glasses up onto the top of her head. "But, you _just_ said that there was no way that you could be related like that."

"Precisely why I said illogically logical."

"Doesn't that textbook say anything about this?"

"Imani, this is a basic, standard college level biology text book. The closest thing related to our dilemma in here is asexual reproduction."

"Well, you're the scientist. What do you think?"

"This circumstance I am finding myself in has obviously never happened before in the history of mankind," she quipped. "There is nothing in this textbook to support the evidence of any of our hypotheses." She drops the book into an empty chair. "_Absolument inutile_."

"Maybe we're not thinking outside of the box."

"Outside of the box?" Delphine's nose scrunches in confusion. "I do not understand."

"It could be that we're not thinking broad enough. We're trying to find a textbook definition of what's going on. And, since it's obviously not in that crap book I spent way too much money on, then we're missing something important. Something vital." She pauses. "Maybe we need to think sci-fi for this."

"Sci-fi? Science fiction?"

"Can you think of anything along the lines of that?"

Delphine rubs the back of her neck as she shrugs. "The only thing I can come up with is human cloning, but, ignoring the blatant immorality of that idea, it's not even possible, scientifically or otherwise. The closest scientists have ever come to human cloning is experimenting this same hypothesis on sheep. Human anatomy is much more diverse. It is impossible to format each different individual's complexities to be able to make a genetic identical of them."

Imani blinks. "I understood almost none of that. You talked _way_ too fast for me to keep up."

Delphine rolls her eyes. "Human cloning is impossible, so we can toss that idea." She leans her head back, exposing her neck and collar bone. "Je veux juste réponses," she whispers to herself.

There's a shuffling of papers and suddenly it stops, Imani all but shouting for Delphine to walk over to her. Delphine obliges, stepping over their piles of discarded books and notepads, knocking over a stack of _Scientific American _magazines in her haste of making her way over to the other woman.

"Look at this," Imani hands her a folded piece of paper. "There's a name on it."

"Reese Alexander?" Delphine frowns. "I don-"

"Understand, yeah, I know." Delphine scowls at her. "Look at the address. It's not far from here."

A sense of excitement begins to swell in Delphine's chest.

"And, I bet since this was in that briefcase, this Reese Alexander may have some of the answers we're looking for."

Imani scoops up her keys lying on the counter and shrugs her jacket over her shoulders.

"Ready for a little road trip, Frenchy?"

* * *

**a/n: [sweats nervously] i'm so sorry it took me basically a month to update**


End file.
